“Life’s beginnings, along with all the muted and explosive moments that surface between the two extremes.”

Love as a concrete foundation for an authentically functional civilization requires the around-the-clock labors of forgiveness. Without it, Love fails

Without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss.

Love taught me to die with dignity that I might come forth anew in splendor. Born once of flesh, then again of fire

September 11, 2001: Citizens of the U.S., besieged by terror’s sting, rose up, weeping glory, as if on eagles’ wings.–from the poem Angel of Remembrance: Candles for September 11, 2001

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

Made applicable to the present, and where visions shape the present into extraordinary possibilities for the future.

Oh what a wonderful soul so bright inside you. Got power to heal the sun’s broken heart, power to restore the moon’s vision too.

Where humanity sowed faith, hope, and unity, joy’s garden blossomed.

Now come the whispers bearing bouquets of moonbeams and sunlight tremblings.

Than they are to hearing anything about acts of love or grace.

In an age when nations and individuals routinely exchange murder for murder

This world’s anguish is no different from the love we insist on holding back.

When the will to learn from the ordinary is present, a seeker may indeed gain entrance into levels of awareness that are extraordinary.

I was reborn a third time to the sound of my name humming haikus in heaven’s mouth.

The uses to which it may be applied are limited only by an individual’s imagination.

As a poet and to accept the fact that life had never given me any choice in the matter. And then I had to discover exactly what that meant.